It had been far, far to long since Corporal Molari had been apart of the controlled chaos of an army mustering.

By the standards of those few whom had answered the call to arms from New 'New' Cadia (a name that he had personally found to be utterly ridiculous and had in the past attempted to change it), Londo Molari was somewhat young in that he was clearly middle aged and only now starting to go past his prime rather than the normal series of war torn fossils that inhabited the world that he had been dumped on to 'retire from the Imperial Guard with dignity'... a fate that he [i]refused[/i] to suffer the indignity of. 

[url=http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NUIm2H6-yvY/T40G37kBnCI/AAAAAAAAAYo/oKdKuoXj5fM/s1600/londo_reference.jpg]Dressed in his old, royal purple uniform, laspistol hosteled and ceremonial sword resting in its sheath by his sides[/url], the proud son of house Molari walked through the swarm of the disgusting, unwashed masses as he did everything that he could to avoid them touching him while doing what his noble blood had given him the right and duty to do since the day he was born; To yell at the newly mindless lower classes to try and get them to be some degree of acceptable to look at and to get them somewhat organized while their betters decided how best to spend their lives.